For those tip-of-the-tongue moments when you're surfing the Zeitgeist but can't quite remember where you are, here is malapropism for the 21st-century. Compiled by Christopher Norris. All views expressed are my own

My view is that the vaccine might help stop variants that we know about so far, but viruses are difficult entities to slow down as life cycles can be rapid and mutations therefore inevitable over time.

The current vaccine deals with the 'known knowns', rather than the 'unknown knowns' and, even less, the 'unknown unknowns', as Donald Rumsfeld once said in another context. We may all soon be back in our doctors' surgeries, being innoculated against the next strain of 'known knowns'.

But what about the billions of potential readers in the world without internet and/or computer access. Such people often have mobile phones, and internet access is growing, but electronic readers are expensive and may be difficult to replace if they break down. And will currently available ebook readers work in tropical climates and desert heat (i.e are they waterproof and does sand clog up the works)? If publishers produce fewer paper-based titles in the future, how will charities like Book Aid -- committed to getting books into the hands of nascent readers in sub-Saharan Africa -- have enough of the right titles to send? Or will the likes of Amazon and Apple agree preferential contracts to get their electronic readers in African hands in sufficient numbers? Future global literacy projects face new threats and opportunities.

Saturday, 28 November 2009

There's been a bit of a bust up in the media over the last few days about homoeopathy and whether or not it works. This old conundrum never gets resolved, with people who swear blind on both sides of the debate.

Essentially, the active ingredient -- usually a toxin -- is actively diluted by a factor of 100 many times until there is no molecule left of the original ingredient, The solution that is left is said to have a 'water memory' and has potency for treating ailments. Whether or not this alternative medicine works is beyond my knowledge: there's been an argument for over 200 years. But think about other scenarios where the technique could be tried out.

Sport: Chinese whispers communication of tactics from coaches and manager to a squad only for the players to dilute the message when they get out on to the pitch.

Media: a minion has an idea that gets stolen progressively up the food-chain hierarchy until the commissioner decides to act on the original, unrecognisable idea convinced it was his or her own Eureka moment.

Relationships: repeated requests from wives and girlfriends directed towards their men get progressively diluted so that by the time he's slumped in front of the telly watching Match of the Day, the memory of what was said seems in the distant past.

This is human nature, I suppose, but in politics this can have positive outcomes occasionally, say when filibustering an unpopular bill, and at least the media projects get made, albeit with workers at the plankton level of the scale perhaps feeling used.

Friday, 27 November 2009

Andrew Marr's The Making of Modern Britain is a triumph of telling history through a journalistic lens: anecdotes, events, gossip, and rear-view mirror vision. Entertaining and educational, but also troubling with the instant realisation that this general viewer (i.e. me) actually knows little about the recent past, let alone much else.

The scope is limitless: all it needs are a few ambulance-chasing agents and grave-robbing publishers to get the party started. Michael Jackson's This Was It, anyone? Oh, I see the book trade has already scoffed all the canapes and drunk the bar dry ...

The media world has moved on since Gordon Brown penned his heartfelt, misspelt letter of condolence, with The Sun getting the larger portion of egg on its face for neglecting to remind readers of the PM's partial blindness and for its own website blunder expressing dearest sympathy for "Mrs Jones".

But today I'm encouraged by my Alma Mater to tithe my modest income to help fund budding academic boy geniuses, which might be understandable if they'd sent the begging letter to the right person. The sheen of alumni status pales somewhat if the school can't get your name right. I clearly made so great an impression on the esteemed establishment that, when some years back I pointed out out their mistake, they insisted there were two of us by the same name in the same year and told me my middle name was Andrew.

So I'll leave the philanthropy to the Phils and Annes until someone cleanses their database, or probably later on the parallel logic that charity begins at home (at least, it does on my meagre annual crust).

Sunday, 22 November 2009

Britain is submerged by the deluge yet again. I don't remember storms like this in the old days. Rivers might have burst their banks, but I don't recall the mayhem and relocation of people that seems to have been epidemic over the last few years, ever since Gordon Brown became Prime Minister, and Cockermouth is the latest example.

Still, despite the havoc, just think how lucky East Anglia has been so far with its flat plains and boggy heritage. How many inches would it take to revert Norfolk to swamp and Ely to an island? And how much money will it take to make sea defences high enough to keep the North Sea, er, in the sea?

It would be a brave man to hog the remote on the sofa with their significant other in tow. The demographic of the audience would be singletons, blokes in the club bar, and families and friends of the players on the pitch.

No one on A Question of Sport would get a "What happened next?" question from the game unless (a) the referee exploded, (b) the players ate the ball, or (c) Twickenham was hit by a tidal wave.